First Kisses
by MinervaEvenstar
Summary: The first kisses of EVERYONE in the New Gen! Some kisses are comical, some are sweet, some are embarrassing, some are forbidden, and all of them are different! Includes multiple points of view, and various slash and het pairings.


**Summary: **The first kisses of EVERYONE in the New Gen! Some kisses are comical, some are sweet, some are embarrassing, some are forbidden, and all of them are different! Includes multiple points of view, and various slash and het pairings.

**Genres:** Romance, friendship, family, comedy, drama...I think that's all of them!

**Rating:** Teen

**4 SCARY WARNINGS:** Mildly foul language, innocent cousin-kissing, some nonconsensual kisses, homosexual pairings, and heterosexual pairings. Think you can handle all of that? XD

**Words:** The story itself is 9,792 words.

**Pairings:** I'm not telling! You'll have to read to find out!

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter characters belong to J. K. Rowling, but I'm such a good person that I'd be willing to take _very_ good care of them if she decided to get rid of them…I'd even share my bed with a few of them! ;-)

**Note:** The characters appear in order from the oldest to whom I consider to be the youngest.

First Kisses by Minerva Evenstar

**Teddy Remus Lupin**

It was my fifth year, and my first date. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was nervous.

I'd taken her to Hogsmeade for dinner, watched the sunset over Black Lake with her, and walked her back to Gryffindor Tower.

Finally, Victoire and I were standing at the entrance to the girls' dormitories, feeling awkward because we both knew that this was the part when we'd decide if we were going to give one another a 'good night kiss' or not. Being in no rush to start the physical part of our relationship, and not wanting her to feel pressured, I took a step back. With a smile I told her that I'd enjoyed our evening and hoped that she had, too. Then, I turned around and began to walk away towards the boys' dormitories.

I was halfway across the common room when I felt her grab my arm and spin me back around. Before I could register what was happening, I felt something warm and smooth against my lips. I was surprised, though not unpleasantly so, and I wrapped my arms around her and returned the mouth-to-mouth pressure.

It was a closed-mouth kiss, but by no means was it a short one, so it's not shocking that her voice was breathless when she pulled away to whisper, "Good night, Teddy." She disappeared up the girls' staircase before I could respond.

Maybe her quick departure was a blessing because my hair had turned as red as my blushing face, and I probably couldn't have managed a coherent "Good night, Vicki" if I'd tried.

**Victoire Gabrielle Weasley**

I never gave my first kiss to anyone. It was stolen from me before I got the chance to give it willingly.

I was just a first year on my way to the library; minding my own business. There was an older boy wearing the colours of Slytherin House, whom I didn't know, ambling in the other direction on the opposite side of the corridor. I didn't think anything of it until he stopped walking mid-step in order to stare at me. It made me uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as when he started coming towards me with a glazed look in his eyes as if he were in a hypnotic trance.

Within moments he had made his way in front of me so that he was blocking my path. He was so close that I could smell his cologne. It was Dragon's Dreamer, a weird scent that Uncle George's friend, Lee, wore sometimes.

"Um, what do you want?" I asked, feeling both nervous and confused.

He didn't seem to hear me. The boy raised his hand slowly, like he was a puppet and his limb was attached to a string. Then, he brushed his fingers against my cheek as he pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. I wasn't sure if his apparent daze or his touch was more disturbing.

I flinched and took a step back from him. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? Leave me alone!" I tried to make myself sound fierce to intimidate him into going away, but - since he was about a foot taller than me and appeared to be at least fourteen years-old – I knew it probably wouldn't work. Deducing this, I moved sideways and attempted to walk around him.

He didn't let me. He closed the minimal distance that I'd put between us and grasped my delicate shoulders with his thick hands. "You're beautiful," he murmured in a voice that was slurred, like a drunk's. It was strange and frightening to have someone whose eyes were utterly unfocused somehow manage to gaze at me intently.

I wish I could say that I showed my Gryffindor courage by slapping him across the face, or pulling out my wand and hexing him, but I was merely a frightened eleven year-old, so when his lips came down from his great height to cover mine I stood still with the shocked thought _'Oh, Merlin, what's happening? What do I do?'_ running through my mind.

However, when I felt something wet and slimy slip inside my mouth, I reacted. I put my small hands against his hard chest and shoved as mightily as I could. My efforts weren't nearly good enough; his arms easily came around my back and he held me fast against him.

I squirmed and pushed, but I couldn't get the grip of his hands or his mouth to loosen at all. That's when tears started leaking from the corners of my eyes. I began to despair that I'd never get the tongue, which felt like a slick worm and tasted like the corn beef that had been served for dinner, out of my mouth.

"What is going on here?" someone demanded.

The horrendous kiss finally broke as the boy and I turned to see who had spoken. My knees grew weak with relief when I saw the Herbology instructor.

"Oh, Uncle Neville!" I gasped, too relieved to remember that I was supposed to call him 'Professor Longbottom' at school. _Thank Merlin!_ With the boy sufficiently distracted by the appearance of a teacher, I broke out of his slackened grasp and ran toward Neville. I'd never hugged him before (He was closer to Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione than to my own parents, so I didn't see him too often.) but he handled it well enough and returned my embrace until I stopped shaking.

"Can you make it back to Gryffindor Tower by yourself?" he asked in concern. "It's okay if you want me to take you, but we'd have to bring Mr. Flint to see the headmistress first."

"I'll be okay on my own." The idea of accompanying my assailant, even to the most rule-enforcing office in the castle with a staff member to protect me, was too dreadful to contemplate. I stepped back from my rescuer and questioned, "Will he get in trouble?" I avoided looking at the boy called Flint, but I knew that Neville would know whom I meant.

Neville sighed. "Probably not. I know this whole thing must be upsetting for you, Vicki, but you need to understand that what happened wasn't his fault." The incredulity must have been plain on my face because Neville continued, "I'll show you." He walked over to the boy and waved a hand directly in front of Flint's face. The lad blinked, like he noticed the hand, yet didn't care about its existence. "See? You've Entranced him."

"How did I do that?" I asked, feeling angry and afraid at the same time. "Mum never taught us how to Entrance people, so I wouldn't know how to do it even if I wanted to…which I didn't," I added in case there was any doubt.

Neville shrugged apologetically. "I'm afraid that I don't know much about Veela magic, so I don't have an answer for you." I wondered if instructors were supposed to admit that they didn't know something. "Now, I've got to bring him to the headmistress so that she can break the trance…You sure you'll be all right by yourself?"

I nodded and returned to my common room without delay; the desire to do my homework in the library was forgotten. I would have headed straight to bed and hidden underneath the blankets, however, on my way to the girls' staircase someone called my name.

"Wotcher, Vicki!"

I turned around to see Teddy Lupin sitting at a table that was covered with small leafs of parchment. Knowing that it would be suspicious if I avoided him, I walked over and sat down across from him.

I started the conversation before he could inquire as to how I was doing because I didn't want to lie to my oldest childhood friend, but I didn't wish to tell him the shameful truth either. "What's all this?" I gestured to the parchment.

"I'm writing letters home," he answered in a voice as bright as his aquamarine eyes. The eye-colour was natural, but his spiky hair being a matching hue was not. Pointing to one of the sheaves, he explained, "This one is to my grandmother." He indicated a different piece of a scroll. "This one is to James." And another. "This one is to Harry, Ginny, and Lily. I'm about to start Al's note. I'd write Lily her own message, the way that I do for James and Al, but she doesn't know how to read many words yet."

"Lily's only a year younger than Al," I pointed out, trying to force myself to get absorbed into the conversation so that it would distract me from the traumatic experience I'd just had.

"Yeah, but he's very advanced. He always wants to go with Rose when Hermione gives her extra lessons and, of course, Hermione is happy to have someone else that loves learning along." Teddy chuckled fondly, but quickly ceased when I didn't join in. He focused his gentle, yet shrewd, gaze on me. "This isn't what you want to talk about, is it?"

It was. I definitely didn't want to talk about what had happened…at least, I thought I didn't want to until my face suddenly dropped into my cupped hands and I started sobbing. Like my tears, the words came pouring out of me. At some point during my explanation, Teddy came around to my side of the table and knelt next to me so that he could put his arms around me.

After all of the terror and rage from my ordeal spilled from me, I was drained and exhausted. "Sorry," I murmured, embarrassed about weeping all over him.

"Don't be. I don't mind." Teddy's smile proved the truth of his claim, which reassured me slightly. "Here, eat this." He produced a bar of Honeydukes chocolate from…somewhere. The metamorphmagus always seemed to have chocolate upon his person, though where he kept the stuff I couldn't begin to guess. I'd once heard Uncle Harry remark that Teddy resembled his father Remus in the aspect of cocoa-addiction. "It'll help you to feel better," he urged playfully when I didn't take it.

I relented, accepting the proffered bar and consuming it. A couple of minutes passed and, to my surprise, I began to feel more relaxed than weary. I didn't know if my newfound sense of peace was caused by the chocolate or Teddy's presence. It wouldn't have been illogical for me to guess the latter considering that Teddy tended to have a calming influence over everyone; nobody except Teddy could melt Andromeda's icy mask with a single grin, and no one could sooth James and Al to the point that they would quit arguing faster than Teddy.

"Better, right?" he asked, reading me accurately.

I nodded and managed to generate a tiny smile, which I hadn't imagined that I would be able to do that evening.

"Good." Satisfied, he stood up from his position beside me and headed towards the portrait hole.

I wasn't afraid of being left alone; it was curiosity that caused me to call out, "Where are you going?"

"To hurt the person that hurt you." There was no anger in his tone. Instead, there was only serene purpose.

For a second, I was shocked that one of the sweetest people that I knew was going to do something unkind to someone even if the person deserved it, but then I remembered an instance when reporters had followed my family into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions in Diagon Alley just because we were with Uncle Harry and his kids. Dominique had enjoyed posing for the cameras, James had liked that the store clerk was willing to give him free items (though Uncle Harry wouldn't allow him to accept any), and Lily and Louis had been too busy dressing each other up in silly hats to notice the members of the press.

Al, however, had been very uncomfortable with the attention of so many strangers focused upon us. Eventually, the camera's disconcertingly bright flashes prompted Al to seek refuge by hiding behind my daddy and Uncle Harry.

Teddy hadn't liked that. He'd gone over to the journalists and placidly told them that they should be ashamed of themselves for being unforgivably rude people that exploited children and had sex with their mothers…Of course, Teddy had used more colourful words. Later, Mum told me that, as a lady, I should never repeat those words. I suspect that Uncle Ron and Cousin Molly, the most notably foul-mouthed people in the Potter-Weasley clan, would have been impressed by Teddy's uncharacteristically bad language.

Distracted by the remembrance, I didn't get a chance to reply to Teddy before he exited the common room, thus I waited at the table covered in his letters until he returned. I did not need to wait long, for he was back in less than an hour.

"Wotcher!" Teddy gave me his standard cheery greeting as he stumbled through the entrance to Gryffindor. At first I fretted that he'd been harmed (After all, he'd gone after a Slytherin that was two years older than himself.), but I quickly deduced from the lack of blood and bruises that Teddy's less-than-graceful entry was merely a result of the natural clumsiness he'd allegedly gotten from his mother rather than from an injury he'd obtained in a duel.

"What happened?" I asked, half-hoping that my friend hadn't been able to find the snake that had violated me and half-hoping that he'd been successful.

"Flint won't be bothering you anymore," Teddy promised merrily. He wouldn't elaborate, making the suggestion that we play Gobstones when I pressed for further details.

Teddy's word was as true as it always was. Flint did not ever accost me again, though to this day I continue to receive more coveted glances from lusty men than I'd like.

The night of my first kiss was when I cursed my Veela blood for the first time. I've only grown to despise people's unreasonable attraction to me more as the years have passed. My little sister and brother still haven't begun to hate it, as they actually _enjoy _using our so-called 'seductive powers,' and I'm not sure if I envy or pity them.

In spite of the negative firsts that day, there was a positive one to be the silver lining of my cloud. The memory of that distressing evening holds the recollection of the first occasion that I got butterflies in my stomach around Teddy, and – like my dislike of my Veela heritage - the butterflies grew stronger with time, too.

**Molly Audrey Weasley**

I've already told this stupid bleeding story to my little sister. She said that the idiotic boy probably had a foolish, but genuine, crush on me, and his friends were encouraging him to confess to me. I still think that it was a dare. Even if Lucy's right and he _did _fancy me, I wouldn't have gotten involved with him. I'm not one of those sickening lovey-dovey girls that are interested in finding a prince charming. Even if I were, I'd pick someone other than him because he held all of the appeal of a hinkypunk's bogeys. I'll recount the event for you, and – since you seem to think you're as smart as a posh seer from Ravenclaw – you can be the ruddy judge of the idiot's true feelings for me.

It was the un-frickin-reasonably cold October of my sixth year. I was in the trophy room polishing damned awards without the use of my bloody magic. I was angrier than a restrained hippogriff during mating season that I'd gotten a detention that was supposed to inspire me to 'behave better.' As I shined a plaque that Tom Marvolo Riddle had gotten for Special Services to the School, I scoffed at the idea of names on pieces of metal being good role models. Honestly, people that flashed their naked bits at nuns set better examples. Cleaning duty was my bleeding unfair punishment for hexing Goyle to have green spots that oozed bubbling blue pus. I reckoned that the arsehole deserved it for trying to cheat off of my test in Transfiguration.

McGonagall didn't agree. The old bint thought that telling her what he was doing so that _she_ could decide how to deal with him would've been a better solution. Cruel, old hag. I liked my way of handling it better.

A group of boys came into the room. I recognised them as being Gryffindors, like me, but a year younger. They were all laughing and nudging each other. I seriously didn't feel like dealing with more testosterone, so I shouted a bunch of obscene (Well, Pop would've considered them obscene. Personally, I found them creative.) names at them and told them to get lost.

They didn't get lost. In fact, one the blokes stepped forward. I wasn't sure who he was and I didn't really care. What I cared about was that he was close enough to me for me to see the sweat pouring down his blushing face. He looked more nervous than a virgin dwarf about to be deflowered by a centaur. In all fairness, I'd be scared if someone with a cock as huge as a ruddy centaur's was trying to mount me too. But I couldn't see any reason for this stupid kid's fear.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and bit his bottom lip. Then, he opened it again to take a deep breath. _Finally_, he spoke, "Erm, uh, h-hi, Molly." The anxious laugh he used to try and alleviate the awkward weirdness of the situation sounded like the mating call of a kappa and it made me grit my teeth in annoyance.

"What the bloody Hell do you want?" I spat. Polishing rubbish awards that nobody looked at was frustrating enough. The last thing I needed was a stuttering moron bothering me. Well, okay, a raging case of gonorrhea was actually the last thing I needed, but I'm sure you get the point.

"Go on, Joseph!" shouted one of the dolts from the back of the group. "Do it!"

"Do what?" I was about to demand, but when the stutterer's face was suddenly a lot closer to mine than before the words stuck in my throat out of surprise. I couldn't imagine why he'd come so near to me that I could smell the roast chicken that had been served for dinner in the Great Hall on his breath. I wondered if he was going to spew the partly-digested remains of his supper on me…Then, he kissed me.

I couldn't move. I was in shock. Pathetic of me, I know, but gimme a break. I mean, it's not like I'd ever been kissed before. Anyway, by the time I registered that his lips were chapped and swollen (probably from the weirdo chewing on them so much), the laughter began. Because I hated being laughed at, the sound formed a heated fury in me that burned through my paralysis. I didn't care what any blasted pacifists said; anger was bloody useful.

I shoved him away from me, back towards his friends, while glaring and shouting wrathfully, "WHAT THE BLEEDING ACROMANTULA'S BALLS IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU BASTARD?"

"I, um, I-I'm sorry. It's just that I…W-well, I, uh…"

He continued to stutter, but I stopped listening. Instead, I paid attention to the guffaws of the other boys. They were clutching their sides and slapping each other on the backs in their crude display of hilarity. It was obvious that the moron's amused friends had put him up to this, so – because I didn't have my wand – I punched the bloke who'd snogged me dead square in the middle of his flushed face.

_Of course_ Filch chose that moment to come check on my progress with the trophy polishing, and _of course_ I got detention for the blood coming out of the prat's nearly-broken nose.

Merlin, life was so frickin' unfair! In fact, it bloody well still is! Why do I get punished for things when they're always someone else's fault?

**Dominique Fleur Weasley**

I kissed Eleanor Wood, one of the girls in my dorm, in my third year. I wanted to kiss a boy, but I had to make sure that I knew what I was doing before I kissed someone that mattered, so I did the smart thing. I kissed a girl for practise.

Ellie was the best choice for girl-on-girl practise snogging because she was the most boyish female in my year. She was totally obsessed with Quidditch and she never did anything nice with her hair. Plus, I'd seen her and Marissa Corner, one of those quiet Ravenclaws that liked to play Gobstones, snog during a game of Truth or Dare once, so I knew Ellie was okay with doing that sort of thing.

Being part-Veela is great because I can get any bloke that isn't blind or gay to want me, but once his eyes close, like during a snog, my inhuman powers have less affect. That's why I needed to give my tongue some training.

Ellie understood that, so we snogged and never told anyone. It wasn't a big deal. We didn't keep it a secret because we were ashamed; we never mentioned it because it wasn't important. After all, it's not like a girl kissing another girl means anything.

**Fred Arthur Weasley**

I woke up one morning and decided that I'd like to kiss someone. It didn't worry me that I was only a second year, or that I'd never bussed a non-relative before. I simply wanted a kiss, and no Gryffindor backed down from a courageous and noble quest.

I put on the heroic armor that I wore almost everyday (What could be more valiant than a uniform that boasted a lion crest over my heart and a crimson-and-gold tie around my neck?) and brushed my red hair, but I didn't do anything other than that to make myself look special. After all, I was just getting a bit of lip-action before going to my first class; it wasn't like I was slaying a dragon, which was a good thing because Uncle Charlie would've been cross if I did.

With a grin on my face and a spring in my step, I went down to the Great Hall. James waved to me, and looked surprised when I didn't return the gesture. I explained to him why a few hours later (Being a sensitive chap, James laughed in my face.), but at that moment I couldn't allow myself to be distracted from my important mission.

I scanned the faces at the Gryffindor table. It didn't occur to me to look at the members of any of the other Houses. I wasn't picky, but it did take me a few seconds to find a suitable person to help me complete my quest. I skipped over all of the blokes (not that I had a problem with blokes snogging each other, but I wasn't interested in doing it myself) and went through over half of a dozen ladies until I located an appropriate one.

Dominique Weasley: Relative

Eleanor Wood: Lesbian

Shannon Finnegan: Had a boyfriend (I wasn't afraid of her boyfriend, but I didn't want to risk earning the girl a bad reputation just because I fancied a snog.)

Denise Creevey: Had a brother (I wasn't scared of him either, but he was on the Quidditch team with me and we had a match against Ravenclaw next week. No sense in causing tension that might make us lose the match.)

Molly Weasley: Relative

Bernadette Parks: Was a fifth year (Hey, I was daring, but I wasn't_ that_ daring!)

Victoire Weasley: Relative

Magenta Brown: …Aha, a perfect candidate!

I strolled confidently over to my chosen girl and tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned away from the conversation she'd been having with Celina Thomas – who, I realised, would have suited my purpose as well, but I'd seen Magenta first - and gave me a confused smile. "Hey, Fred, what's-"

I didn't let her finish her question. I was sure that she was going to ask what I wanted, and I figured that actions provided better explanations than words did. Without hesitation, I cupped her soft cheeks in my hands and bent down to kiss her.

Her hair that smelled like flowers was tickling my face…Her lips that tasted like the French toast she'd been eating were against my tongue…Her hand that had many shiny rings on it was punching me in the jaw.

I went sprawling onto the floor of the Great Hall, My behind made an echoing _smack_ when it collided with the stone. Everyone laughed, and my cousins snorted the loudest of all. I didn't blame them, for I would have chuckled too if one of them had been in my position. In fact, I _did_ chuckle too because people that can't laugh at themselves are uptight prats that don't know how to have fun. Like Uncle Percy.

Magenta Brown seemed even angrier about my amusement than she had been about me snogging her. She huffed, stood up, and stomped away with her locks bobbing and her small hips swaying. It wasn't an unattractive sight to conclude the incident with.

I had a contusion on my backside for three days, and the bruises on my jaw lasted for a week. Basically, it was a completely brilliant experience!

A few years later, Magenta and I engaged in another lip-lock, and that time it was _her _idea…That's another story, though, (one that I'm not sure you're old enough to hear the ending of) so we'll just end my little narration here, shall we?

**James Sirius Potter**

Technically, the first person to kiss me on the lips was the baby of the family, my youngest cousin Louis, but that doesn't count. I mean, the kid was four years-old for Merlin's sake, and he was only doing it to say, "_Salut, ça va_?" That means "Hi, what's up?" for those of you that don't have French-speaking relatives.

Wanna know the funniest part of it? Being a nine year-old that still believed in cooties, I was grossed out at the time. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as if that would get rid of the germs and said, "Yuck! Louis, you can't kiss your cousins, 'specially not if they're boys." Louis' response to that had been to go over to where Al and Rose were taking turns reading passages from _The Tales of Beedle the Bard _aloud to each otherin the corner. He gave each of them a loud, wet smooch on the lips. From Dad's and Teddy's amused reactions, I'm sure that the incredulous expression on my face must've been hilarious.

What I think makes it really comical is that I'm okay with Louis kissing me now - even though he's become way more flamboyantly gay than Al could ever be – because, being older and more mature, I realise that a kiss between relatives can be casually affectionate and not romantic. Plus, it's the secure straight man that doesn't mind another bloke touching him. McGonagall said that I'd never grow up enough to gain maturity, but what does she know?

Oh, wait, you _wanted_ romantic, didn't you? You wanted to hear about my first romantickiss? Unfortunately, that story is a great deal less funny.

During my fourth year, while I was sitting in the common room planning a prank with Fred, Celina Thomas came over to me out of nowhere. Smiling sensually and not saying a word, she sat on my lap, put her arms around my neck, and started snogging me in front of everyone. I'm ashamed to say that I was into it - _very_ into it - at the time.

We went out for about a month before I discovered that she was only interested in me because I was Harry Potter's kid. That sure as Hell made me regret that I'd liked snogging her! All of my life I'd always thought that the extra attention I got for being one of The Chosen One's offspring was cool, unlike Al, who got uncomfortable when he received attention from strangers. However, to find out that I'd been used like that had been…terrible. Really terrible. I'd rather not talk about it.

The point is that I learned not to revel in the fame of the family name, and I made the decision to monitor my little brother's and sister's dating habits carefully. If any bloke ever goes after Al or Lily because of who our dad is, I'm going to hex his face so badly that he won't have lips to snog anyone with again. At least I only have to worry about whorish _blokes_ bothering them; the girls stick to pestering me because it's common knowledge that neither of my siblings is interested in breasts.

Speaking of vengeance, a couple days after the news of Celina's true motives for dating me spread around school, she wound up in the hospital wing, and I solemnly swear that it wasn't me who hexed 'SNEAK' across her forehead. I wonder who it was…It was an impressive bit of magic; it took Madame Pomfrey over a week to remove despite the fact that she said she'd seen it done once before.

Anyways, no offense or anything, but I've spent way too much time talking to you. I've got to go. There's a new flying technique that I wanna try out!

**Roxanne Alicia Weasley**

I don't know if I should tell you. I've never told anyone about my first kiss before. I suppose it would be a relief to get it off of my chest…Okay, here goes:

I've always been closer to Dominique than anyone else. Some of our cousins think she's a selfish snob, and I acknowledge that she _can_ be, but she can be nice, too. She's two years older than me, and is very confident and beautiful. I admired her a lot when I was a kid. In fact, I still do.

The summer between my third and fourth year, Domi asked me about my first kiss. When I told her that I hadn't had it yet, she gasped, "Vee cannot 'ave zat!" I was about to tell her that it was fine, but then Domi did something that shocked me. She put her mouth firmly against mine and slid her tongue inside.

I knew, even while the kiss was happening, that I should push her away. We were girls and, even worse, we were cousins. As teenagers, we were certainly old enough to understand that cousins were not supposed to kiss one another like that.

But we _were_ kissing because I _didn't_ push her away. I moved my lips against hers and it felt good. Of course, I probably wouldn't have stopped her even if I hadn't enjoyed it since I've never been able to deny Domi anything.

When she pulled back almost a full minute later she was beaming at me in satisfaction. "Zere! Now you 'ave practise for ven you kiss a boy."

Years have passed since then and I've yet to kiss a boy. I've yet to want to. The idea that I might be a lesbian has occurred to me, but I haven't really desired any girls either. The only girl I've fancied is...No, I still can't say it out loud; not even after all of this time.

I think that there must be something wrong with me.

**Rose Minerva Weasley**

My first kiss? Hmm…I don't suppose that my baby cousin Louis counts? You see, he kisses everyone. _Everyone,_ regardless of age, gender, or family relation. He only dates young men (and I presume he has sexual intercourse with some of them, but it's not appropriate to discuss such things), though he kisses almost everybody he meets. To Louis, a kiss is a way of saying, "_Bonjour, comment allez-vous aujourd'hui_?" It was cute when he was younger, but I've warned him that if he keeps doing it to complete strangers he's going to catch some sort of disease.

Anyway, if Louis doesn't count, then my first kiss was during my seventh year at Hogwarts. I know that most people would be embarrassed to get their first kiss so late in life, but I was glad that I'd waited because it made it all the more special.

I was on my third date with Andre Winter. We wouldn't even have had a first date if it hadn't been for Al and Scorpius insisting that their dorm mate was perfect for me. I'd been reluctant to agree to go out with him since I knew that Dad would object to me dating a Slytherin even though I was a Ravenclaw rather than a Gryffindor. After pestering me for over a month about our compatibility, Al and Scorpius eventually got me to agree to give Andre a chance. I wound up being grateful to the persistent fools, but don't tell them I said so.

For our third date, we went to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Yes, I know how that sounds, but we were intellectuals that had _honestly_ gone there to stargaze; not hormonal teenagers using their constellation homework as an excuse to find a private place to remove each other's clothing. Andre had brought a picnic basket with soup, sandwiches, cakes, and candles in it. We ate dinner and dessert by candlelight as we talked about the latest books we'd read. He was particularly interested in the Muggle books of my mother's that I'd recently perused since his parents forbade him from looking at Muggle literature.

When I mentioned that I wished that I were more like the heroine in one of the novels, Andre told me that I shouldn't ever want to be someone other than me because I was already "as bloody brilliant, brave, and beauteous" as they came. Normally, I disapproved of swearing, but I decided to disregard the profanity in favour of admiring his complimentary alliteration.

Then, we both leaned in at the same time rather than one person initiating the buss and the other just going along with it. Our kiss was a mutual meeting of lips that confirmed what we desired and how we felt about each other. It was fairly quick and chaste compared to the kisses that we shared later in our relationship, but - to be completely honest - it was exactly what I'd always hoped my first kiss would be like.

A good kiss is worth waiting for.

**Albus Severus Potter**

First kisses can be an incredibly personal subject. You shouldn't ask someone about something like that unless you know him or her really well. Reporters are always asking me, and people in my family, private stuff that isn't any of their business. I don't like reporters, and I'm not very nice to people that I don't like. You aren't a reporter, are you?

Because if you are, then _you_ can kiss something: My arse. 'Kiss my arse/ass' is an expression from the year 1705. It was used in Chaucer's "The Miller's Tale." You should appreciate that I used such a well-aged insult.

Oh, you aren't a journalist? In that case, I hope that you can forgive my rudeness and I'd be happy to discuss kisses with you!

The first word in Old English to mean "to kiss" was _cyssan_, which some etymologists think came from the Ancient Greek _kynein _since that term had the same meaning. Some languages distinguish between affectionate and sexual busses. For example, in classical Latin (the Italic language used in Ancient Rome until the fourth century) _saviari_ meant "erotic kiss" and _osculum_ literally translated to "little mouth."

Based on how the majority of modern Western cultures refer to 'first kisses,' I know that you are curious about my first sensual kiss rather than a friendly one. That's clandestine information that I'm not sure that I should reveal…

Well, I presume that there isn't any harm in letting you know _who_ it was since our families are already aware that he and I are together. In fact, at least half of the school probably suspects it by now, but our families are the people that matter.

Anyway, some of my relatives didn't take the news of our relationship very well, which I anticipated would happen given that I'm the misfit of the family; the gay Slytherin that would rather do potions experiments than play Quidditch. I'm grateful that the people that I love the most - like Dad, Aunt Hermione, Rose, Lily, and Teddy - were happy that someone returned my feelings. They didn't care who it was since they knew that destiny could have been cruel and forced me to live a life of unrequited love, such as both of the people that Dad named me after. Seriously, I can't fathom why he tempted fate by giving me two namesakes that were lonely heroes of tragic romances. Not to mention the fact that being named for a manipulative wizard and his murderer is just plain creepy.

Oops, I've gotten distracted from the main topic, haven't I? I'm sorry; I tend to ramble sometimes. Most people think it's annoying. Does it bother you? I'm sorry if it does. I can't really help it. My brain thinks about so many things at once, and my mouth tries to keep up.

Fortunately, it doesn't irritate my boyfriend. He said that it would if I talked about mundane topics, but considering that I'm normally spewing intellectual facts and theories, he finds my rants more interesting and sexy than aggravating. It made me happy when he told me that because he doesn't compliment me very often. I don't mind that he doesn't try to flatter me since that's what people that only like me because I'm a hero's son tend to do.

Besides, he doesn't typically compliment _anyone_. He usually criticises them instead. Of course, he doesn't mean half of the condescending words that come from his gorgeous mouth. It's just his defense mechanism and…Oh, right, I still haven't told you who he is!

Scorpius Malfoy is the first and only person that I've ever kissed.

I wouldn't want it any other way because getting to the point where I could kiss him was difficult, and I can't imagine going through that for someone else. Nobody except Scor could possibly be worth the trouble.

I apologise, but I don't feel comfortable sharing any information other than that with you. Maybe I'll tell you more after we've gotten to know each other better. Not before that.

I hope that you have a nice day filled with your own wonderful _saviari_s and _osculum_s!

Oh, and by the way, no matter what Scor says to try to convince you, don't believe the claim that I blushed and got teary-eyed like a girl after our first kiss. He only tells people that because he's embarrassed that he got so hard so fast.

**Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy**

Jasmine Nott was the first, and the only, girl I ever kissed. She was a smart, beautiful, and delicious-smelling seventh year. It wasn't a small feat for a fifteen year-old, like me, to score such a gorgeous woman, I can assure you.

Our kiss was quite unfulfilling, which wound up being enlightening. I knew that if I couldn't be stimulated by tasting the vanilla-flavoured lips of someone as lovely as _her_, it meant that I was - to put it tastefully – a Seeker for the other Quidditch team.

The fact that I willingly spent hours working with my male best friend on potions experiments that only vaguely interested me as an excuse to be alone with him so that I could stare at his bright green eyes without the risk of anyone catching me in the act was a bit of a tip-off about my sexual orientation too.

I'd describe my first kiss _with Al_ since that's a snog that I actually enjoyed, but that wasn't what you asked to hear about. Besides, that's a private memory that you haven't proven yourself worthy of knowing the details of. Just so you know, if you want to impress me, you've got a_ long_ way to go.

However, in case Al ever mentions it to you, I will reveal this much: I did _not_ get – to put it tastefully – an instant wand from one single kiss. Al only tells people that because he's embarrassed that he blushed and got teary-eyed like a girl.

**Hugo Ronald Weasley**

My first kiss wasn't all that great.

Megan Something (I don't remember her surname.) asked me out in our fourth year. I'd said "nah, that's okay." When I mentioned this to my cousins, they went mental.

"You should've said 'yes!' She's cute…for a Hufflepuff."

"Hey, _I'm _a Hufflepuff, so don't be rude! Anyway, Hugo, suppose you hurt her feelings? Did you at least say that you were flattered that she'd asked you?"

"You don't get as many offers as I do, Mate. You can't afford to be picky. At least she's not a Slytherin."

"_I'm _a Slytherin, you tactless imbecile. Listen, Hugo, you constantly complain about the fact that you've never had a girlfriend, which I don't understand since dating seems like a waste of valuable time to me. Now that you've finally gotten asked out by a perfectly acceptable girl, you turn down her offer? You've officially forfeited your right to bitch."

"Tell her you've changed your mind. You might have fun if you give her a chance."

"You'll be in a better mood if you ride something besides your broomstick once in a while."

"_Mon dieu_, are you not zee only one in your year zat 'as never been on a date! 'Aven't you ever zought about how pathetic everyone says zat makes you?"

Bearing the totally _non-_confidence-boosting words of Fred, Roxy, James, Al, Lucy, Lily, and Domi in mind, I found Megan and told her that I'd said the wrong thing before, and that I'd like to go out with her. She squealed and got all excited like she'd won the lottery, which was sort-of odd. It's not like I was one of Uncle Harry's kids or anything. Her excitement wasn't up to the standards of Lorcan Scamander Weird, but it was strange nonetheless.

I wish our date was strange so that it would've been a tiny bit interesting. Instead, it was the most boring day I'd ever spent in Hogsmeade. I couldn't believe that I'd let my family talk me into going out with her.

We went to Madame Puddifoot's to drink sickeningly sweet tea, to the stationary shop so she could buy more parchment, and to the clothing store so she could drop off her torn scarf to be mended.

She didn't want to talk about Quidditch or anything else exciting. The most thought-provoking think she'd said was that her favourite colour was chartreuse, and that was only intriguing because I didn't have the slightest idea as to what hue that was. I wondered if I ought to ask my sister later, as girls somehow seemed to know about stuff like specific shades of colours.

I was almost ready to ditch her so I could meet my cousins at The Three Broomsticks and maybe salvage part of my horribly dull day when Megan pulled me into a shadowed alleyway between two shops.

I looked around and couldn't see anything but litter and grime. "What are we doing here?" I asked, clueless as to why she would want to be in such a disgusting place.

She put her hand on my forearm. I glanced at it, wondering what it was doing there. "You know, I really like you, Hugo."

I couldn't honestly say that I liked her too, so instead I answered, "Erm, thanks." I hoped I didn't sound as awkward as I felt.

She giggled, and I couldn't figure out why because there wasn't anything amusing about the dark, smelly alley we were standing in. "You're funny."

"I am?" I hadn't made a joke all day, so I couldn't comprehend her reasons for thinking that. I also couldn't understand why she slid her hand up my forearm to my shoulder and stepped much closer to me. The whole situation was very confusing.

"I want to thank you for taking me on such a nice date today," she whispered, but I could easily hear her since she was so close that I could feel her breath on my face.

Hadn't this girl ever heard of personal space? "Um, you're welcome." I would have taken a step back from her, but I didn't want to get my rear stuck in the slime on the wall behind me.

She giggled again, and there was even less reason for the amused reaction than when she'd done it the first time. I'd never been this bewildered before; not even when I tried to follow Mum and Rose's conversations. "Not with words, silly. Like this." Then she kissed me, and it was as if a _Lumos _charm had been cast above my head, shedding light upon her reasons for acting so strangely; she'd wanted to snog.

Well, she should have just said so in the first place! Happy to oblige, I closed my eyes and put an arm around her waist and a hand in her hair the way that I'd seen Fred and James do with their girlfriends. I couldn't wait to tell my cousins that I'd finally had a brilliant snogging session!

That was when the thought hit me that it wasn't as amazing as I expected snogging to be. Her lips tasted like the too-sweet tea we'd just had at Madame Puddifoot's, and her jacket was thick, so I couldn't even feel her breasts press against my chest. I wasn't very disappointed when she pulled back to take a deep breath. I took one too; it turned out that oxygen really was as necessary as they claimed.

"This is what all the fuss is about? Snogging isn't so great…Or maybe it's just her that isn't so great." I realised that I'd said this out loud when I heard her shocked gasp. "Oh, wait, I'm sorry! I didn't mean-"

She ran away crying before I could try to repair the damage that I'd done. It was probably for the best. I'm rubbish at apologies.

So…that's it. I told you that my first kiss wasn't all that great.

**Lily Luna Potter**

Merlin, my head aches when I try to access the sloshed memory of that night! It was at a celebratory party in the Gryffindor common room during my third year…or was it my second year? I can't remember. I do know that the festivities were our way of congratulating ourselves after we'd won a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw…or was it Hufflepuff? You know, I can't recall that either.

The only thing that I'm certain of is that there was a lot of firewhiskey involved and that - even though he was at the party - James didn't notice what happened. If he'd noticed, then the bloke that played tonsil-Quidditch with me and felt far enough up my shirt to unclasp my bra would've definitely wound up in the hospital wing with something permanently hexed off. There weren't any Gryffindors in the infirmary that weekend, which proves that James didn't witness the incident.

You can trust me about no Gryffindors being in the medical ward; I checked the records because I'd enjoyed the bout of tonsil-Quidditch and wanted a rematch. I'm a bit disappointed that I still don't know who it was, but everything worked out okay since I've found many other worthy opponents to play the game with since then.

**Lorcan Xenophilus Scamander**

Why on earth would you want to hear about my first kiss? It's not as if it was an important moment in my life…Well, since you asked, I'll oblige you.

It's an odd story, really. If you ask any of my classmates, I am an expert on all things peculiar, so you can believe me if _I_ tell you that something is strange.

I was walking around the castle searching for signs of wrackspurts. It was almost curfew, and I knew that I would have to return to Ravenclaw Tower soon.

I heard the crying before I saw her. Megan Smith, a Hufflepuff in my year, was sitting on the floor of an empty corridor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her body swayed forward and backward as she sobbed. The only possible reaction to the situation was to attempt to comfort the distraught girl.

I sat on the floor beside her, though not close enough that we were touching because that might have made her uncomfortable. "What has distressed you, Miss Smith?" I have been told that the way that I speak to people is unusual, however, as long as others can comprehend my speech, I find changing it unnecessary.

Her eyes widened, and I knew that her stupefaction stemmed from the identity of her would-be counselor. I wasn't known to be particularly social, for most of my classmates called me "Dorkan" as a pun on my name, and did not seek my company. I respected their wishes and never forced my companionship upon them. I speculate that the majority of my schoolmates were under the impression that I did not have any friends at all, not realising that I was quite close to a few of the Potters and the Weasleys, which – as far as I was concerned - were the only comrades that I needed.

In spite of her surprise, Megan adjusted to the situation well and instantly blurted out the reason for her depression. "I'm ugly, and stupid, and a bad kisser, and no one will ever want me!" More tears streamed down her already-soaked cheeks upon making her declaration and my heart swelled with sympathy.

"That could be a problem," I agreed serenely. Her sobs increased for some reason until I added, "If it were true."

"You-" A fit of hiccoughing interrupted her. After she'd calmed down sufficiently, she spoke again. "You don't think it's true?"

I shook my head, causing my blond locks to fall into my eyes, but they did not bother me because I was staring at something far beyond the realm of sight when I intoned, "You aren't ugly because everyone is beautiful in his or her own way. You aren't stupid because everyone brings a unique talent to the world. Someone will want you because under this massive sky everyone has a match, and you'll find yours as long as you're willing to open your heart and search."

Megan gave me a watery smile, and – because everyone looks nice when they smile – I said, "My point has been proven. Even the pungalo wouldn't be able to deny that you look lovely now, though he is known for his trickery and would probably make an effort to claim as much."

Her grin widened as she dabbed at her damp eyes with the cuff of her right sleeve. "You know, in a weird way, you're pretty sweet, Scamander."

It was known that flesh-eating creatures considered human beings to be sweet entrées rather than sour or bitter ones, but somehow I doubted that that was what she meant. What she did mean, however, I was not certain, hence I remained silent.

"You didn't say anything about my kissing, though." She was still beaming, so I knew that she was not offended. She may have even been teasing, but I've never been good at discerning a joke when I encounter one.

I brushed my hair out of my face so that I could see Megan properly, as I wished to be able to convey the gravity of my next statement to her. I've discovered that making eye-contact normally results in people taking proclamations more seriously. "There is no such thing as being a 'bad' kisser in the same way that the existence of 'bad' music is a fallacy. Everything comes down to preference, for what is 'good' in one person's view might not be so in another's."

Her brows furrowed as she mulled over my sentiments. A couple of seconds passed before she nodded. "That's fair." Megan regarded me intently and shifted closer so that our legs touched. "You'd have to kiss someone to know if they'd be 'good' in your view."

Our gazes locked and I thought, 'She's going to kiss me.' Immediately after having the notion I decided that I must be wrong because her kissing me wouldn't make any sense. After all, we barely knew each other.

Then she kissed me. Just like that. Didn't I tell you it was a bizarre story? Who kisses someone out of nowhere like that? Apparently, Megan Smith.

I kissed her back. She was already upset, and I didn't want to make her misery worse by rejecting her. The kiss was quite…wet.

Now, now, don't look scandalised; it was wet because she was crying. Aside from the tears that were tragic symbols of her unhappiness, I found the kiss to be agreeable. Her lips and body were warm against mine, and she smelt like raspberries. Although, even as I kissed her, I knew that kissing someone that I had an intimate connection with would have been better.

Megan was panting slightly when she broke the connection between our mouths. "So, erm, how was it?"

'It' is a nonspecific term, ergo it took me a moment to recognise that she was referring to the kiss. "Agreeable," I responded truthfully.

"That's good, right?" She beamed when I nodded, but the pleased expression quickly morphed into a concerned one. "Listen, Dorkan - um, I mean, Lorcan – you won't tell anyone about this…Will you?"

"No, I'll be too busy writing articles to warn the English population about the bowtruckles' uprising to have time to discuss it with anyone," I told her with placid honesty.

"Uh, great. Thanks." After bestowing me with a final smile that conveyed the awkwardness she was feeling, Megan got off of the floor, smoothed down her skirt, and walked away, leaving me behind in the deserted corridor.

I knew why she'd asked me not to reveal what had happened between us. She would have been embarrassed if anyone found out that she had kissed the biggest dork in school. After all, I wasn't called 'Dorkan' for nothing. This might have hurt anyone else's feelings, though it didn't bother me since I had no wish to gossip about our unplanned romantic encounter. My vow not to recount what transpired was made with complete willingness, and I've kept my promise.

I suppose that I broke my oath by telling you, but I'm not worried. You're the kind of person that won't divulge a secret to all of the Hogwarts student body. I can tell.

**Lucy Ginerva Weasley**

There's not much to tell. When I was four years-old there was a party at Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny's house. It was probably one of my cousins' birthdays, but I don't remember whose because I was hiding in the cupboard under the stairs instead of partying. For some reason, Uncle Harry found it hilarious when I hid there…

I wasn't being unsocial or anything; I was just trying to find a quiet place to play my toy guitar.

The little door opened. Someone had found me. "Your daddy wants you in da dining woom. Dey're cuttin' da cake." It was Lysander Scamander. I wasn't surprised that _he'd_ found me. Lysander was only three years-old, but no one in the family could beat him at Hide-and-Seek. He could find everyone - whether they were playing or not - within ten minutes, which Hugo considered creepy and I thought was impressive.

I say 'the family,' but even back then I knew that - like Teddy - the Scamanders were 'like family,' which was different from being just plain 'family.'

"'Kay," I answered, and emerged from the dusty closet. I thought about brushing off the dust and decided that it didn't matter. I started to walk towards the dining room, but Lysander caught my left hand. I turned around and looked at him in confusion.

His large eyes were studying me carefully: From the guitar in my right hand, to the purple party dress I was wearing, and to the dust in my hair. After several seconds of staring, he leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips without hesitation. One heartbeat later he pulled back. There was a tiny smile on his small, serene face.

Feeling more perplexed than ever, I asked, "What'd you do that for?"

"Cuz I wuv you," he said simply. Then he released my hand and walked away like nothing special had happened, so I shrugged and didn't think much of it until ten years later.

A decade passed and we found ourselves in almost the same situation. That time, when he gave "because I love you" as his reason for randomly giving me a chaste kiss, I made sure that I didn't let Lysander Scamander walk away from me.

**Louis ****Guillaume**** Weasley**

Honestly, _mon cherie_, I can't remember my first kiss. I've given kisses as a form of greeting to people since before I was tall enough to reach the jar of éclairs that _Mamam_ kept on the kitchen counter. Eventually, I learned to reach the jar by putting on Domi's high-heeled shoes, and I found that I enjoyed wearing them. Female clothes are just nicer, _n'es pas_?

I enjoy kissing as well. I'd kiss you if I met you. Kisses are a much more memorable, personal way to greet someone than a handshake, and you can learn a lot about a person by how they react to a kiss,

Where was I? _Mais oui_, I remember! If you want to hear about my best, worst, longest, wettest, or loudest kiss…Well, then I have a fabulous, exciting story for you! But my _first _kiss? Sorry to disappoint you, but I simply have no idea when or who it was. _C'est la vie!_

**Lysander Harry Scamander**

It's not who gets the first kiss that matters; it's who gets the last kiss. Naturally, I find it endearing that I got Lucy Weasley's first kiss, and that she got mine, but it's much more important to me that we shared our last kisses with each other because it shows that we were together at the end of our lives. A story can begin a thousand different ways, but after the plot thickens there's only a few ways that a tale can end, and I like happy endings.

**THE END**

You can review/comment without reading the following notes, but feel free to read 'em if you're interested…or bored!

**Note on age:** Where do I put the age gaps? When Teddy is 17, this is how old I think everyone is:

Teddy – 17

Vicki – 16

Molly - 15

Domi and Fred - 14

James – 13

Roxy - 12

Al, Rose, and Scorpius – 11

Lily, Hugo, and Lorcan – 10

Lucy – 9

Lysander and Louis – 8

We know from the DH epilogue that Teddy graduated before Victoire did because he came to "see her off" at the train station. I figure he's only one year older than her because Bill and Fleur strike me as a couple to get busy making babies quickly! Teddy was born before Harry turned 18, and "seventeen years later" in the epilogue Al, Rose, and Scorpius were 11 and ready to start school, so we know that Teddy and the New Trio are 6 years apart. The family tree JKR drew tells us which Weasley/Potter siblings are older than each other, but not which _cousins_ are older, so I had to invent everything else pertaining to the ages myself. JKR said in an interview that Luna got married after everyone else did, so I presumed that her children would be younger than many of the others.

**Note on questions:** Before you ask, the answer is: Yes, Louis technically kissed Al before Scorpius did. However, unlike James, Al_ literally_ thought nothing of the smooch from his toddler cousin (at the time or afterwards), which is why Al doesn't mention Louis at all when telling the story of his first kiss. Who hexed Celina Thomas? I'll leave speculation about _that_ up to you!

**Note on names:** Louis' middle name is the French form of his father's name, William. As for Victoire, Roxanne, Rose, Lorcan, and Lysander…I thought Fleur would name her daughter after her beloved little sister, Angelina would name her baby after her best friend, Hermione would name her child after her favourite professor, and Luna would name her sons after her father and friend, especially since Harry had already named his youngest child after Luna. Everyone else was obviously named after their parent(s).

**Note on me:** Lucy's and James' stories were the most fun for me to write! I liked how Al's and Scor's anecdotes wound up sharing a few elements, and how Hugo's and Lorcan's tales were related. Also, I'm fond of Lysander's contribution because I feel that – as the final 'first kiss' – it did a good job of wrapping up the fic. **:-)**

Of course, I'm much more interested in what YOU enjoyed! Did you have a favourite kiss? Did you have a favourite or least favoruite character? (My personal least fave character is Dominique! lol) **Please, let me know what you thought of this fic, and thanks for reading!**


End file.
